I Want To Come Home
by Morana of Lake by Downs
Summary: Rachel goes home to Lima from NYC for the summer, as does the rest of the glee club. When faced with her past, will Rachel rewrite history? Sequel to "Getting Yourself Together", although I think you could keep up easily.
1. Prologue

**I know, sorry this took me so long you guys. And i'm sorry that this is so short, but the real first chapter should be up soon, I promise.**

Rachel was a hermit by nature.

Being alone came easily to her. She actually needed a quiet moment everyday so she could regroup her thoughts and became crabby whenever she didn't get it.

In NY it was fairly easy to obtain that, since she lived alone. She had so many quiet moments it actually got boring sometimes.

She probably wouldn't be having many quiet moments this summer though, because _this summer_ she was going home to Lima, Ohio. And she was pretty sure that, between her fathers and the former glee club members (most of them, she knew, would also be back home), she wouldn't have much quietness.

She sighed.

She almost considered staying in NY. She had no accomplishments to brag about, at least for the moment. And she didn't feel like going back to Lima empty handed.

She'd always prided herself on her artistic skills, secretly feeling superior to those who tried to bring her down. Whenever someone threw a slushie at her, or said something mean, she would go to the auditorium and practice till her throat was sore.

It was her way of coping. And she felt, unlikely as it might sound, that they knew about her feelings of superiority and would hold her to it. She would have to, sooner or later, demonstrate the skills she was so proud of.

But for now, she could not. Therefore, the uneasiness in her grew fast as the time of her flight quickly approached, but her fathers insisted she came home and she could never say no to them anyway.

There was one thing though that made her dread even more (and also _want)_ that trip that had nothing to do with her colleagues.

Well, not with all of them at least. Just one.

Noah.

Weird as it may sound, he was a somewhat relieving factor for her on that goddamn trip. Not that Noah should ever be a solution for _anything _or _anyone, _but her knowing he would be there made all the difference. How much she wanted to be near him was what made her nervous.

Ever since he left NY, two months ago, they had talked pretty much every day. E-mails, Skype, she'd even sent a couple of videos of her singing so he could catch up to her progress. Hell, she'd posted photos of herself (all dressed up and sexy) on Facebook hoping he would see it.

It's not like that though. She didn't _just _dress up and did make up to show off on Facebook. It had been Jesse's birthday, which they celebrated (among his Broadway friends, bless him) on some trendy bar. She just decided to take pictures of that special moment for her friend, and she just happened to look amazing on the pics.

And she just happened to post them on Facebook on a moment she saw he was online.

He, on turn, had sent her a bad footage of his latest concerts. It sounded so bad, and it was so obvious they had made plenty of mistakes (drunk much?) that it turned out to be hilarious to watch them. She'd told him so boldly.

The internet had a funny (and dangerous) way to make you feel a false sense of security. And that made you say things you normally wouldn't. Secrets you wouldn't reveal otherwise. Honesty came much easier when you didn't have to face the person at the other end.

So every night online she realized she shared more and more of herself with him, and he appeared to be doing the same. They know shared a mutual knowledge and intimacy level they'd never experienced face to face. And it scared her and felt weird at the same time.

She didn't know how it would be when they met again. For the first time he had let it show how much growing up without a father had shaken him. She, in turn, told him about how she missed having a mother.

They sought each other out constantly, and she couldn't help but feel a little disappointed and saddened when he wasn't online, and feel happy whenever she found him. It was almost as though they were dating.

Except, you know, there wasn't any kissing, or making out, or…you know, the good part. ..at least not outside her head.

Every night she caught herself thinking about him kissing her neck, just, you know, kissing her neck. She didn't dare say she longed for it.

It was rather confusing since he had already kissed her neck. She knew what it felt like. And they had made out, when they dated. But the weird part was that she didn't feel like he was the same person she had kissed. It was like he had suddenly developed a new quality that made him a lot more exciting and made her a lot more eager to be around him.

Except, you know, she suspected that it had been just him all along. Or that maybe she was just using the distance to create a knight in shining armor in her head, under the excuse that know she knew him as he truly was.

Whichever may be, she felt like a teenage girl, anxious (and eager) for a ball dance, choosing her clothes a month before, wondering every night whether the guy she fancied would notice her and ask her to dance the slow dance.

And you know what, it felt kind of good to be so silly again.

She closed her bag, throwing in the last of the stuff she would need for summer and walked away from it. A few minutes later, she turned around, smiled to herself, and changed her mind, throwing in another bikini, this one considerably more revealing than the ones she'd packed.

She decided that she would let herself enjoy the anticipation, and be happy over something for a change. That is, until she met Noah Puckerman face to face. Then she would see what she would do about him.


	2. You Only Live Once

**I'm really ashamed that this took so long. I'm so sorry. Work got in the way of what really matters: writing! Lol. Anyway, I think I'll be updating this story one short chapter at a time. I know where this is going, we only need to get there. Also, I'm thinking about a couple of other stories on the Glee verse, one is a future Pucklebbery and the other is Quinn-centered. Which one would you like to see first?**

Rachel arrived in Lima at precisely five in the afternoon. She took off her sunglasses, took a good look at the house she'd grown up in. It was like she'd never left, but at the same time, it was as though she had lived in New York her whole life. She smiled at the white picket fence and scoffed at herself. She didn't know if it was crazy hormonal activity or what, but she felt really good right now.

She walked inside the house and took her bags to her old bedroom. It was exactly as she'd left the last time she visited. It was actually exactly the same since freshman year in high school. Apparently, her dads were having a hard time getting over the fact she was no longer a kid.

She settled herself in, took a shower (she always felt like she needed one after flying) and after about half an hour walking around the house with nothing to do, she grew bored. She searched desperately for something to do, not wanting to let her previous good mood evaporate. Had she been in NY, she'd probably grab a book or go for a walk. She felt too agitated to read so she went for a walk.

When she first arrived in NY, she was overwhelmed with the amount of things she wanted to see and do. After a few years living there she grew used to it. Now she felt there was too little to do in Lima in comparison.

In the end, she went to pay a visit to her old High School.

Ok, that sounded crazy. High school had sometimes been a torment for her. But she had fond memories of the people and the hallways of that damn place.

When she arrived, she went straight to the auditorium, expecting to find it empty. Instead, she found Will Schuester, exactly as she remembered him, giving what was probably a summer course on music or something. She thought twice about staying there and waiting until the class finished so she could talk to him. Although they hadn't always been on the same terms (almost never, really) he had been a mentor for her, and she knew she had his respect. Still, she felt uneasy, fearing that he would sense her "failure".

Even uncertain on what she should do, she stood there, impressed with the number of students enrolled on the course. She didn't want to brag, but the glee club had become a lot more popular since they won nationals. She remembered proudly of the competition held in San Francisco. They had all given their blood to win. They knew it was their last chance, so they really dedicated themselves.

It helped strengthen their bond and, suddenly, she missed her fellow glee-clubbers very much. She decided to make Will Schuester aware of her presence by sitting beside him as he supervised rehearsals.

"Hi Mr Schue" She said quietly, not wanting to disturb his focus.

"Rachel!" His eyes light up, his expression turning to one of pleasant surprise. "Are you home for summer?"

"Yes!" She confirmed, excited. He looked back towards the stage to give some input to the kids, and she took a good look at them. She got impressed with how young they looked, which made her feel quite old, like she'd walked into a model-version of life.

_Weird. _Anyway, there was this stubborn girl who insisted on Mr Schue dismissing the backing vocals and let her sing solo. Rachel turned red, torn between holding in her laughter and feeling embarrassed for the girl. She remembered being like that at the beginning, not being a team player and all. She even felt a bit embarrassed for herself upon having those memories shoved back at her.

Mr Schue seemed to read her thoughts and smiled a bit to Rachel after becoming frustrated when the girl performing stormed out.

Every student on stage became quiet after the "incident" and Rachel started laughing really hard, filling the auditorium with her voice. Mr Schue was fighting to keep his composure (and doing a good job of it, too). They all stared, flabbergasted, at Rachel, who couldn't seem to stop laughing. Will, seeing that his lesson was pretty much over, laughed a little and decided to introduce Rachel to the students. He stood up and motioned for her to stand up too.

"Everyone, I would like you to meet one of my former pupils, Rachel Berry". She stood up, proudly, quickly regaining control. "She currently goes to Juilliard". Mr Schue beamed at her. She felt warm inside at his demonstrating to be proud of her and went a little red. All the students ogled at her, and she felt a bit proud of herself, too.

As long as they didn't found out about her grades, it was all well.

Pretty much every single one of them came to her with questions, about winning nationals, getting into a good college, working hard, losing, and persistence. She happily answered all of them, and suddenly she knew why Mr Schue had chosen to work as a teacher and not chase after his Broadway dreams.

It felt good to be a mentor. It was nice, the admiration, the feeling that you could guide and actually _help _someone. She was happy with their satisfied faces after she'd answered them, and her own mood was certainly lifted.

Maybe it was because Mr Schue noticed how much she'd enjoyed coming in contact with the students that he came with an offer for her after all the students left.

"Rachel" He paused awkwardly, apparently measuring his words, on that Schuester manner she knew so well. "How you'd like to assist me with this summer course?" Her eyes must have gone wide, because he looked uncertain for a moment. She wasn't expecting this.

But, all things considered, it wouldn't actually be so bad. Mr Schuester went on.

"I saw how the students came to you, excited. They must've felt they could relate to you. Those are next semester's freshmen, and I think you could really help get them engaged on the glee club. They haven't any chemistry on stage between them, and maybe you could help them work on it?" He reasoned with her, expectantly.

Will Schuester, Rachel thought, was a good man. He took a real interest on the well-being of others. And he had really good interpersonal skills. It was no wonder that now he and Ms Pillsberry were happily married, her being equally as kind.

On the other hand, Rachel herself felt…uncomfortable on the company of strangers. She often felt herself judged when meeting someone for the first time, and having been picked on for most of her life, she had developed a persona to push away possibly ill-intentioned people. A persona that, she figured out after many years, must come off as quite the snob.

Therefore, taking this up this offer would provide her with the opportunity, she reasoned with herself, to work on that side of hers.

If she wanted to be an actress, a performer, she certainly would have to deal with strangers on an almost daily basis.

After a long moment on which she ran all of this through her head, and the professor only waited quietly, Rachel Berry said yes to taking the job of assisting Will Schuester.


	3. You and I

**Wow, an update, so soon? Yep! I've def outdone myself. I decided to be disciplined and write a bit every day… sorry for such a short chapter again, but I decided it would be better to update frequently with short chapters than spend weeks trying to finish a big chapter. **

What Rachel really loved about music was that she really could pour her feelings out. Whenever she felt like screaming, with so much inside her she felt she would burst, she would burst – into song. The way she could feel the lyrics, incorporating the story as though it was her own, mixing it with her own, adding a new shade of meaning to it.

It was one of those moments as she sang "You and I" by Lady Gaga on Mckinley's Auditorium. Mr Schue had asked her to do a little performance and show the students how to interpret a song. She was a little nervous with the prospect of stepping onto that stage after all those years. She also failed to mention that her teachers at Juilliard found her a failure at conveying emotion through song.

But upon planting her right feet at the stage, a bunch of memories came flooding back to her. Memories of fun, hope and excitement of when she first envisioned herself in NY. That would've scared her if familiarity hadn't come right after. She stepped more firmly, ordering the song of her choice. And she really felt like coming home, dancing around the stage like it was her usual (before she had to develop a more _restrained_ approach due to Juilliard), flirting with the musicians, owning the song.

She really had something she should retrieve in this town.

She almost missed a step and fell down when Noah entered the auditorium, adding, amongst other things, irony to her performance. But she couldn't back down now, she'd already started. Planting both feet firmer on stage, she finished the song, hoping with every pore that she exuded confidence.

Perhaps it worked, for the whole auditorium (well, the twenty people there) went on their feet and applauded her performance. Mr Schue positively beamed at her, not yet having noticed the presence of his other ex-student.

"Rachel, NY is doing you good! Such a heartfelt, authentic performance!" He praised her, applauding enthusiastically. Only then he appeared to notice the clapping on the background that came from one Noah Puckerman.

"Puck! So glad to see you!" Mr Schue went to clap him in the back, whilst Rachel stood on stage, a wave of shyness suddenly upon her. _God, this shouldn't be so awkward, _she thought, breathing slowly. _Rachel Berry, you're an idiot._

Arguing with herself that her behavior was nonsensical, Rachel stepped down and strode towards him, battling a feeling that he would look at her differently now that she'd admitted to sometimes crying at night, wanting a mother to call to.

Putting on the biggest smile she could muster, she stood in front of both men. "Noah!" she exclaimed with forced cheer.

But when he looked at her with warm eyes and that characteristically easygoing manner, something inside her calmed down, making her feel foolish for her big fake smile. SO she replaced it with a calmer, sincere one.

Rachel wasn't aware of how long it had been since Mr Schuester and Puck last saw each other, but they seemed pretty up to date with each other's lives. That didn't intrigue her, since Puck technically still lived in Lima, even if he travelled a lot. After a few minutes of conversation, Mr Schue excused himself to dismiss the class.

"I show up in his class whenever I can" Puck informed her as though she had asked, when Mr Schue left. "You know, play the guitar, give some input." Rachel smiled at him. She liked his kindness. "Search for the glee club has dramatically increased, but, unfortunately, the school budget hasn't. It isn't easy for Mr Schue to do it all by himself. A bunch of us help him out whenever we can" he told her nonchalantly.

Rachel's smile faded. She suddenly felt ashamed of herself for having left the glee club behind and never wondering what became of it. Her old self would've helped sooner, wouldn't be that ungrateful. Uncomfortable, she looked around, trying to make sure that nothing had changed. She could see Mr Schue's white streaks though.

Puck seemed unaware of her internal debate. He stood there with his casual manner, looking the part of the guy who always tried his best, no matter what. She felt her annoyance towards herself shift towards him, all the joy of seeing him faded. She quickly made up an excuse and left for her dads' home.

She soon arrived home (walking, as she grew unaccustomed to driving) and sat through dinner barely listening to her dads' telling her of their days. She insisted on washing the dishes (she was still a good daughter, after all) and the activity somewhat numbed her. The cool water running over the pans was a distraction and gave her something mindless to focus on.

Her peace didn't last much, though. Entering her old room and looking at the old decoration depressed her. She felt like her time was quickly running out. She knew she was still young for many things, but artists usually had their break through at a young age. Nobody heard of someone who had done their first play at 30 and was successful. Sure, there were cases…but they were rare.

She took the plush bears out of the top of her bed and put them away on a bag (one of them had been a gift from Finn), making up her mind to donate them to charity on the next day. She had left Lima thinking that she had a sure path ahead of her. Now she was more lost than ever, and she felt that her mistake had been exactly at the point where she left. She needed to fix it before she left again for NY, or she would further disappoint herself.


	4. Golden Slumbers

**Hey ****guys! Thank you for all the story alerts, favorites and reviews I've gotten so far!**

**SuzQQ, you're right! Rachel was pretty rude. She gets so caught up in herself and the demands she makes of herself that she sometimes doesn't realize that it affects others. I hope she grows out of it! Thanks for reviewing, I think you'll like this chapter ;)**

**Thank you gleefan96 and Lov2-Travel as well **

**A Merry X-mas to you all!**

Rachel was lounging by the pool, soaking up some much needed sun. This was the best part of summer in Lima. The quiet, the leisure…that is, until a giant bee started rounding her. It was a particular nasty bee, huge, almost the size of her fist! _Is it buzzing at me?_

Rachel woke with her cell on her hand, a brilliant light announcing she had a text message. Confused, she laid back on her pillow, shoving her tresses away from her face, trying to adjust her eyes to read the message. It was from none other than Puck.

_I'm down here, _it said.

Down where, she asked herself.

Suddenly, she heard something knock at her window and immediately freaked out. Her cell, which she still held, buzzed again.

_ Open your window. _Puck, again.

She stood up, confused and still groggy, to open her window. Sure enough, there was Puck, _throwing rocks at her window._

"Hey!" He brightened upon seeing her. "Move over!" On the next second, he was scaling her trellis and reaching her window. It didn't make any sense on her foggy mind. Maybe she was still dreaming. "Puck! Do you know what time it is?"

"Yeah. Eleven thirty" He told her matter-of-factly, already inside her bedroom.

"Exactly. Isn't it a bit late to be climbing windows?" Annoyance was hitting her. "I was sleeping!" She was standing right in front of him, cute short and blouse and hair pulled up.

He looked her up and down and fought a smirk. She, in turn, fought the urge to go red. The shorts were still a bit _too _short and she wore no bra. Nonetheless, upon seeing him looking hot with a black shirt and jeans, she still wished she'd been wearing her camisole instead.

Too late now.

"Sorry Rach. You're usually awake at this time." He informed her nonchalantly. He seemed pretty aware that he looked pretty good right now. Almost as though it'd been on purpose. She sighed.

"That's in NY. This is Lima." She gave him a sarcastic look, turned her back on him and walked towards her wardrobe, grabbing a robe and putting it on. She turned around and crossed her arms, still waiting for him to explain his presence. She didn't know whether it was the time, his looks, the darkness or all of those circumstances, but it was becoming pretty hard not to walk closer to him.

He looked her straight in the eyes and spoke softly: "Is there more than one Rachel?" She recognized the challenge and smirked. He should be proud of her smirk; she'd learned it from him. "When we are in NY, you take me to a fancy restaurant. In Lima, you throw a rock at my window? Are there two Noah's?" He smiled a little, softly, like he always did when she called him Noah.

"Lima calls us back to old habits, then" He said with a slight smile. It suddenly hit her that this wasn't the first time that he invaded her bedroom, and that the last time he'd done it, they'd ended up making out on her bed. Her eyes involuntarily traveled towards the bed, and he must've been thinking about the same occasion, for his smirk grew wider.

She oddly had to refrain from asking him "Wanna make out?". It would be too easy and he'd probably say yes.

Probably.

"Well, where would we go?" She asked, out of need to deviate the subject. Puck walked over to her comfy chair and sat sideways on it. "David is throwing a party just outside town". David played guitar in Puck's band. She liked David and she usually accompanied Puck to those parties (or at least she had for a while, when they were in NY). She almost said yes, but occurred to her to ask just how far "outside town" was.

Puck answered calmly. "A couple of hours". Her eyes went wide. "What? Are you insane? It would be dawn by the time we came back! My dads would freak out." He mocked her. "Badass Rachel stayed in NY, then" he said, rolling his eyes.

That hurt her pride a little, but she was also secretly happy that _Puck_ referred to _her_ as a badass. She fought her smile but Puck saw right through it and they both laughed. "Come on, I know you'd like to go".

She groaned. "Really, Noah, maybe next time. I was asleep already and my dads _really _will freak out if they wake up and I'm gone. And I haven't the heart to wake them up and tell that I'm off to god knows where." He conceded, seeing reason within her speech. He stood up, with a slight defeated air and went towards the window to leave.

Rachel took a look at the odd situation of him putting one foot out of the window. "I feel like Bella Swan right now" she told him sarcastically. He turned around, now really glaring at her. "Which one do you prefer me to be? The shirtless werewolf or the sparkling vampire?"

It made her feel kind of bad that he went through the trouble (even if it _was _weird to show up at one's house through the window) of climbing her window and she was shooing him off like that. A wild suggestion went through her mind and she said it before she had time to think.

"Wait! Do you want to watch the Twilight movies? I have all of them. Then we can decide if I am team Jacob or Edward". He looked at her with such incredulity that she was already laughing. She didn't know if the sarcastic looks he gave her were due to the invitation or to the admission of owning copies of the movies. She grabbed his arm. "Come on, we'll watch some Tarantino." His eyes lit up at the mention of the ultraviolent director. "I just can't have you leaving my house with that scorned dog's look".

He made a noise of protest but allowed her to conduct him back into her house. She never grew accustomed to how big his biceps were.


	5. Sing a Lullaby

Rachel arrived at the kids' rehearsal late the following day, since she'd stayed up with Puck till 2:30 am. She'd slept on his shoulder till 6 am, when they woke up sore from the odd position they'd been in her couch. Puck headed home to avoid the awkwardness that would ensue if her dads found them.

She had to admit that it was quite weird, indeed, the way they'd comfortably slept against each other. Instead of paying attention to the movie, she'd spent all night trying to put the appropriate distance between them. She knew for sure it would be weird if she stayed too close. But _he was in her basement in the middle of the night_, _forgodssake,_ and she couldn't just sit at the other end of the sofa, all stiff and uncomfortable.

Eventually she started hiding her head on his shoulder whenever blood spilled everywhere on the other side of the screen. It made their closeness more comfortable (and natural) to her, so she ended up resting on his shoulder when she got sleepy (and didn't even realize it). He fell asleep too at some point.

By the time they woke up, it felt so warm and nice that she held him still and wouldn't let him move, but she soon realized what she was doing. After that, going up to her room and bed felt disappointing to say the least. She'd barely slept after that, tossing around her bed every half hour.

And now she stood in the middle of Mckinley's auditorium, tired as hell and wondering how come she managed to sleep so well _on a couch_, and how she would achieve that nice, sound sleep again.

Due to her daydreaming, she almost failed to notice that the thing she feared the most from coming back to Lima was happening right then.

Or, to be more precise, the second worst thing. The first thing would be running into Finn. However, ten feet in front of her stood none other than Quinn, talking animatedly with Mr Schue, looking gorgeous and put together, as always. She could swear that Quinn didn't know what a bad hair day was.

She didn't hate Quinn. She actually kind of liked Quinn. It was just hard for Rachel because, in comparison to Quinn, she always felt the underdog. True, Quinn had contributed a lot to the development of that feeling, in the early days, but Rachel acknowledged that both had grown a lot since then, therefore some past mistakes were forgotten.

In the end Rachel had always felt that it would be easier if Quinn liked her, so she made an effort to be nice to her at all times. On the other hand, she perceived Quinn as largely mistrusting of anyone who tried to please her, so Rachel always felt that her efforts were for naught. That made for a very tense relationship between the two, which slightly frustrated Rachel.

She didn't know how to proceed otherwise, though, so she kept trying to be as nice as possible. At least that way no one would be able to say that she'd been rude and it was her screw up. She herself doubted that anyone from the old New Directions would even notice anything nowadays, though, and it seemed paranoid, even to her, that in the rare times they gathered they would waste time talking behind her back.

Still, she'd been raised to be nice to people, so she would be, unless directly offended. And even if Quinn's perfect hair mildly offended her, she figured that it wasn't reason enough to act upon it. Rachel sighed and, walking towards Quinn and Mr Schue, braced herself for the awkward exchange that certainly would follow.


	6. Voices

The awkward exchange never really came.

Quinn smiled at Rachel and asked how NY was doing. She actually tried to maintain polite conversation, instead of looking oddly at Rachel's attempts like she usually did. Rachel was a little surprised by how easy talking to Quinn was, and the two even shared a couple of laughs remembering old Glee Club facts.

Eventually, Rachel asked her how she was doing in Cornish. She delayed the topic because it involved Finn, who also went there, but her morbid curiosity got the best of her. She just hoped it did not turn the conversation unpleasant.

Quinn smiled quietly. "I'm transferring to Yale" she told Rachel in a nonchalant manner. Rachel's eyes went wide against her will. Quinn was heading to the other end of the country, opposite Finn. _Does it mean that…? _She quickly tried to cover up her train of thoughts. "That's wonderful, Quinn! Yale is great." Rachel congratulated her, smiling widely. Her mouth hurt.

Quinn smiled suspiciously, maybe not quite buying it. "Cornish is great, too, but Yale will suit me better". For the paranoid Rachel, that pretty much confirmed the break up. Later that week she would find out that it was indeed true, but right now she had conflicting emotions about it.

_I don't care about his life, he is probably going after someone else now, he can't be alone for two seconds. _

And then:

_What if he still won't speak to me? I always figured that he'd stopped speaking to me, in general, because he thought it would be awkward to Quinn. What if it isn't the case and he thinks me a really horrible person? But what did I do?_

And also:

_Who cares about him? He just dumped me without much explanation. He's just a loser._

Rachel stared blankly ahead, not really paying attention to the kids' performance of Coldplay.

_What if he wants to be friends? Will I start liking him again? Could I be his friend? Will he want to visit in NY? What if he wants to visit, what will I say? If he comes over, he will see knitting books and my crochet and will assume that I am a loser who knits in NY!_

A sudden thought surfaced on the sea of absurd questioning that was her brain right now.

_Puck asked me to knit a scarf for him._

Her brows instantly creased and she could suddenly hear the Coldplay song again. _I haven't even bought wool yet. I think burgundy will go well with his general coloring…_

She could sense Quinn enjoying the song beside her. She found herself wishing she was more like Quinn, not for the first time. She looked so self-assured, confident, serene. Composed. Even if she fell down, she always managed to get back on her feet, puff her skirts and look posh.

Like right now, if it was indeed true that she and Finn had broken up, she didn't show any signs of it. She appeared to be moving on with her life, quietly. Quinn came off as cold, but Rachel had seen the rare occasion on which she fell down. She would allow herself a few moments of craziness, and then get on with things. And it wasn't easy getting out of a long relationship, even if it'd been wearing you out.

She turned the attention back to herself, as she often did, and found herself lacking in comparison. She allowed herself to become a mess. She made room for people to look down on her, because she looked down on herself. She felt momentarily ashamed and made a mental promise not to fall on those traps again in the future.

She looked over to Quinn, who was smiling, and smiled too.


	7. Butterflies

**Happy New Year!**

The _thing_, the _problem_, the deal with Puck was that he had _moves_.

No, seriously, just look at the way he talks to people, Rachel thought. He has that badass attitude about him, so when he is a fraction nice to people he gets them to do whatever he wants.

When _Rachel_, on the other hand, tries to be badass, people just call her a bitch.

Which, if she thought about it, probably made sense.

Ok, the focus was Puck now, not herself. He managed to look hot and casual wearing just about anything. Even once in NY, when he borrowed her robe because she'd spilled cranberry sauce on his shirt and demanded he took it off so she could wash it, or it would stain. She was such an idiot. She should've made him stay shirtless. _Like, forever. _He was shirtless right now, on that stupid bake sale _she _had made up.

_Shut up, Rachel. It is for a good cause. _

Yes, of course it was, it _had to be_ a good cause to make her stay inside that goddamn hot kitchen, baking cupcakes all by herself while everyone else got refreshments by the pool. _Life is so unfair. I'll never do a good deed again. _

She had opened her big mouth on last Monday's rehearsal to say that they could have a bake sale to help raise funds for a summer play the students wanted to do. Money came more easily to the Glee Club these days, but it didn't mean that the other Arts were having it easy too.

Mr Schue readily said it was a great idea, so he offered his (and Mrs Schue's, former Pillsbury) house and said he would contact every one of the former glee clubbers to help.

_Great help they are, lounging by the pool like that. _She glared through the kitchen's windows, straight at where Santana playfully splashed Artie. Sure, Rachel had put on her bikini as well, hoping to have some fun after the cupcakes were decorated. But she couldn't abandon her work right now. _Like everyone else is doing._

It was boarding on unbearable, staying inside that oven-hot kitchen, with all windows closed (she couldn't afford the risk of some wandering fly landing on one of the cupcakes), whilst watching everyone else so fresh out there. An idea suddenly occurred to her. She could take off her dress and cook in her bikini.

It was a rather unappealing idea to her. First, she found that to be really gross. She thought that the kitchen area should provide a clean, orderly appearance, and there was something pretty wrong with showing up after a swim to cook. Second, she wasn't comfortable walking around semi-naked. Sure, sun bathing at her house was ok, staying inside the pool was ok, but in the presence of other people she preferred to cover a little. Call her insecure or old fashioned, but that's the way it was with her.

_Still, _it was incredibly hot in there. She had a pretty clear view of the yard, so if anyone came towards the kitchen, she could quickly throw her dress on. Everyone else was wearing bathing suits anyway.

She looked both ways before she pulled her dress over her head and folded it in a neat pile on top of a chair. _Much better. _She fanned herself, enjoying the heat reprieve.

She was actually working pretty fast, she thought. There was a batch of chocolate cupcakes already in the oven, and she was preparing some vanilla to go in right after. The icing was almost done, too. Had she brought her special tools from NY, they might've had some stars on top of the cupcakes, but the cute pink icing would have to do.

She carefully opened the oven to check if the first batch was ready. _They are usually ready by now when I bake them in NY, but I guess this oven is different. _She closed the door, humming to herself while she wiped her hands and put the towel aside. She missed out on the fact that Noah had just come into the kitchen and was standing very still right behind her.

She was distractedly organizing and putting away things, so she was pretty surprised when she turned around and found herself _very _close to Noah. She gave a small yelp of surprise and stood still, mere inches from him. "Need help?" he asked, huskily. He seemed to be pretty comfortable with the fact that they were both half naked.

She turned her back on him again, embarrassed, but found it to be the worst possible thing for her to do, because now his breath was right against her right year as he spoke in a low voice to her. "You know, someone back in NY taught me a thing or two about baking" she could hear the lazy smile in his voice and she fought the shiver that wanted to rise.

She smiled nervously, trying to pretend she didn't notice his flirty tones. Or his lack of clothing. _He knows he looks good._ She thought, exasperated at him. Seeing her control about to snap, she decided to just turn around and face him, before she lost it and leaned back against him. As much as she was dying and would love to do that.

"Noah!" she exclaimed, pretending to be annoyed at him. _Of course I'm annoyed. My body just went haywire. _She looked around, desperate to occupy him._ "_You can sift the flour!"

He raised his eyebrows sarcastically at her, as if to say "really?" but moved to get the flour anyway. She knew him to be a good cook. He didn't enjoy cooking as much as she did, but the guy could handle it. She looked at him flexing his biceps as he worked on his task. She felt a definite pull towards him. There was a strange temptation for her to just go behind him and kiss his shoulders, and the worst part was that it seemed so natural that she was almost doing it.

She turned her attention back to the icing she'd been preparing. She tried to rationalize with herself that it would be a bad idea to do this with so many people around. But that made another intriguing thought rise amidst the others: _So I should just invite him over to my place._

She was still distracted a few minutes later, thinking about the implications of her inviting him over _like that_, and ended up letting the icing get too stiff. She went for some milk to help soften it when she heard a "Damn!" being muttered. She looked over to where Puck had been standing, and looked back at her, his expression neutral. "Rach, come over here, there's an issue".

When she went over to see what was going on, he simply smirked at her and tossed a bunch of flour at her general direction. She gasped, surprised and looked at him. At first she became pissed, then she laughed and then the possibility of vengeance occurred to her. She deliberately sank her right hand at the flour pot and spread it over his chest. He looked down, seeing the mess she made and flour war began.

They chased each other around the kitchen, messing it with flour, laughing. They were fully covered with it until Noah decided to wash them off by turning the flour fight into a water fight, so now, instead of soaked in flour, they were simply soaked. Rachel, wanting revenge, cornered him against the isle, not quite sure what she'd use against him now.

She looked up at him and he looked down at her, both breathless and laughing from the joke. Again, they were mere inches from each other and that didn't seem to go unnoticed to either. The laughter died down as they looked straight at each other's eyes, and his look turned smoldering. Rachel was sure that she couldn't keep the desire away from her eyes, either.

In one fluid motion, he put his hand behind her head and brought her up towards him, at the same time that she put her hands on his shoulders, forcing him towards her. Their lips met in a hungry, much postponed kiss, and it soon became a full body contact.

Rachel hugged his neck, wanting him even closer. Their breaths were coming in short intakes; she didn't want the kiss to end and, she imagined, neither did he. He slid one hand to the small of her back, securing her position. Rachel couldn't form a single coherent thought; only half-formed phrases flashed through her mind. _His skin… feels so good._

She hungrily attacked his mouth, which he reciprocated. He eventually moved the kisses down to her jaw, then in the direction of her ear and neck. Her breath came in short gasps in his ear. His hand descended from the small of her back to the outer side of her leg, pulling it to hook it around his waist. She scratched his back in response, to each he lightly moaned in her ear. The heat seemed to emanate from them, engulf them, making her forget her surroundings.

The sound of a door suddenly closing made them crash back into earth, startled and breathless, only to see Finn standing right there in the kitchen.


	8. Try a Little Tenderness

Rachel had the oddest sensation upon seeing Finn. He had been exclusively inside her head for so long that it was almost as though he was a fictional character, a figment of her imagination. Yet, there he stood, with that trademark "innocent- I don't know what's going on" Finn face.

Right away she noticed that his presence bothered her. Not in a good way, rather on a "I don't know what I am doing here and I want to leave now" way. She also noticed that Puck's eyes had turned opaque, but he didn't remove his hand from her back. She fidgeted, looking down, not really wanting to face the situation.

In fact, it was so awkward she kind of wanted to laugh. You know when someone presents inappropriate responses to some situations? Rachel was kind of like that. Well, not really, but she could at least find humor on the situation. Finn had dumped her, ignored her, and now he found her entangled with the resident badass at the teacher's kitchen.

She didn't know if it was rock bottom for her and the epitome of humiliation or the perfect revenge.

She decided that pretending it wasn't awkward at all was the best course of action.

"Hi Finn" She said quietly, with a slight smile. Finn looked from one to the other, his right hand resting at the back of his head. "H-hey ". Puck nodded towards him. She pushed herself to keep smiling, trying to convince herself that he was a good person after all, and that all of the unpleasantness was in the past.

She thought up a polite question to ask, and ended up inquiring him about how was he liking attending Cornish. _That, _she thought, _won't raise any unneeded suspicions. _Puck was still there, unmoving, and Finn answered that it was good right away with a nervous laugh. It seemed like neither of the three wanted to do anything that would turn the situation weirder. Therefore, walking away didn't look like a possibility.

Rachel nodded a little too enthusiastically when Finn finished his answer, but didn't know what else to say or do. She didn't want to say anything that might lead him into knowing that she was aware of the break up. Firstly because she didn't want him to think she had any hopes. Secondly because she didn't want him to think her a stalker, which was just pathetic.

The three of them only looked at each for what seemed like an eternity.

Then the oven's timer ticked loudly.

_Saved by the bell! _Rachel though, relieved by the sign that the cupcakes were ready. "That's me" She said, almost too joyful. She let out a breath of relief and thanked the heavens once she turned towards the oven and away from them. She felt released of her diplomatic duties and put an effort on looking busy.

She could hear the boys talking about college sports, but that was uninteresting to her and she tuned out. It still felt weird to be in the same room as Finn, but she was trying to ignore the odd awareness that she had for his presence. She put her completely focus on the cupcakes on an attempt to get over it.

Puck eventually went back to sifting the flour, and Finn looked from one to the other before asking "Rachel, do you need some help?" Rachel froze, because it was the first time he had used her name in a while. The impersonal matter with which he said it made an ice bucket fall in her organs. _He says it like we are barely acquainted. The friend of a friend._ She was glad that her back was turned to them, so neither would get a glimpse of her thoughts. She quickly put a smile on her face, relaxed her cheek muscles, and turned around.

"Yes, Finn, thank you. You can prepare these cupcakes for filling" there was a tray of recently baked cupcakes on top of the counter and she motioned for him to get them. He reached for them silently and she realized that he had no gloves therefore was about to burn himself. She quickly tossed her towel at him, startling Finn. "Careful, they're hot" she told him with her bossy tone.

Startled, he stopped midway, picked the towel, covered his hands with it, and finally smiled a little at her in thanks.

_You know what, _she thought, _feels kind of good to boss him around. _

Then she proceeded to go out and inform the rest of the glee club what still needed to be done, and soon everyone was in the kitchen, talking and laughing loudly, discussing which color the cupcakes should be.

Rachel rested against the wall for a moment, alone, observing what everyone was doing. She caught Noah's eyes and smiled at him, and he smiled back.


	9. Dreams

**Hey, just to make it clear...they are over 21, ok?**

Puck decided to host a party at his house, in Lima (he bought a house to himself- it didn't bode well to live with his mom after gaining so much money from his internet business), about a week and a half after the bake sale.

Thinking back on the day of the bake sale made Rachel a _little nervous. _

Not entirely because the sale _per se_ ended lamely. The cupcakes were colorful and they even managed to arrange them on cute boxes. But after selling about half around the neighborhood, their parents and themselves ended up buying most of it. The kids of the new Glee Club were a little disappointed after hearing so many no's – but at least it helps build their perseverance, Rachel figured with a sigh.

The real reason it made her nervous was that she kept remembering the kiss she shared with Puck. Not only she remembered it at random moments during the day, but it also occasionally made her shiver and frequently made her lust undeniably for Noah.

It was one of these moments as she looked at herself on the mirror and wondered what she should wear for Noah's party. _This dress is sexier, but this blouse and skirt won't make it look like I'm trying too hard_.

Rachel paused for a moment, pondering.

_I'll go with the dress._

She put the dress aside and looked around her trunk for a pair of shoes. _These heels are uncomfortable, but they are sexy as hell _she thought as she picked a pair of black pumps_._ She put those aside as well and finally went for the panties. She opened her drawer and looked at the contents with a critical look.

She had little experience with people looking at her underwear but knew that if someone was meant to look, she couldn't go with the ultra-comfortable-and-cute pink hipsters she normally wore.

Not that someone was going to look at her panties tonight.

_Still, I would feel better wearing something prettier._

If she was honest with herself, she didn't feel comfortable wearing thongs. Sure, she owned one –_ just one, just in case- _but they really weren't her favorite pair. So she decided that prettier wasn't necessarily sluttier, so she put on a nicely cut black lace underwear. _Sexy, with taste._

_ But nobody is going to know, it's just for my psychological comfort._

She kept saying it to herself as she threw on her assemble. She had already done her makeup – nothing too dramatic, her clothes were provocative enough – grabbed a little clutch bag she bought at a sale in NY and went to get car keys from one of her dads. She'd lost weight from walking so much in NY, but she missed driving.

Of course, she was aware that driving contributed to pollute the planet, but she walked or took rides whenever possible. It was nice to know you had an easy way in or out of places, though.

_Stop this, Rachel, you're not going to need an easy way out and you're not showing your panties to anyone._ She told it to herself over and over again during her drive, but still had nervous butterflies on her stomach when she arrived on Puck's front porch. There was such loud music inside that she wondered how anyone would listen to her ringing the doorbell.

It was Puck himself who opened the door and a heat wave crashed against Rachel's stomach. He looked pretty hot with that green polo shirt and jeans, leaning against the door frame and smiling at her. His eyes sparkled, as he looked her up and down and murmured a "Mazel Tov" as greeting.

Rachel pretended not to hear but his approval thrilled her nonetheless. _Just jump on his lap, why don't you_ she thought, sarcastically. But deep down she knew that she had dressed to incite him. The fact that she had achieved it was an added bonus.

He led her inside, introducing her to some people, pointing her towards the people she already knew. Most of the glee club was already there including –ugh – Finn, who was talking to some brunette that Puck introduced as a cousin of his. Quinn was also there, and Rachel noticed that she was trying not to look at Finn and to appear as if she didn't really care.

She actually felt sorry for Quinn because she knew exactly how _that_ felt like. She knew Quinn was perfectly capable of picking herself up, but still, it seemed like it was too much too soon for her.

They went past them towards Puck's band members. Rachel enthusiastically hugged them all. She had really bonded with them back in NY and had missed the lot. She stuck around, catching up, laughing at their constant jokes and reminiscing. They actually helped her feel more at ease and relax.

Puck disappeared for a few seconds and came back with two bottles of beer. He silently handed one to Rachel as he sipped the other. She shook her head because she thought that drinking would only make matters worse. She gave him a look of disbelief because he knew what had happened the last time she'd indulged in too much drinking. He seemed to get it, because he took a step closer, smirked and said in a low voice "Come on, Berry. When have I failed to take care of you?"

_Yep, and he knows I like it too. _She knew he could see the effects he had on her and she could see the effects she was having on him. There was pure…_electricity _between the two of them. She narrowed her eyes at him, letting a mischievous smile land on her lips. His lazy smile grew wider.

"Chill, this is non-alcoholic Rach. I wouldn't offer you a drink." He turned in a way that he ended speaking directly to her ear. "I wouldn't want you to forget". She felt a shiver go through her spine and defiantly turned her head around so her lips were inches from his. "Forget what?" she asked, her voice a mere whisper. His only response was a knowing smile and turning away from her to sip at his own bottle. Rachel refused to let herself blush.

Puck excused himself, saying he had to circulate to be a good host. Nick, Puck's band mate answered that the only thing a good party required was cold beer. Puck laughed but left anyway, leaving Rachel with his band. She sipped her non-alcoholic drink, half of the time paying attention to what everyone was saying and joining at opportune times. The other half she looked around trying to find Noah.

Sometimes she would spot him talking politely to people on their late twenties. She assumed, from the way they dressed, their age, and the way Noah dealt with them, that they were his business connections. She assumed that their presence was the reason why he wasn't drinking.

On many occasions her eyes met his across the room, he would briefly smile at her and she would smile back, then quickly turn around so he wouldn't realize that she had been searching with her eyes for him. He just looked so good tonight, it was especially hard to take her eyes off of him.

After a while, she grew restless and excused herself from her circle. She started touring the house all by herself (_I'm sure Noah won't mind)_. She knew what Puck's tastes were, so she wanted to try and guess which pieces of furniture he had chosen by himself. She found a black leather couch and a LED TV that were surely his doing. The fact that there was little furniture was probably his doing as well. It all spoke of Noah but it also spoke of a scarcely inhabited place that in the end didn't say much about him at all. So she went to a place that he had to use frequently that wasn't his room: the kitchen.

She couldn't explore though because she spotted Quinn the minute she walked into the kitchen, with a stormy look, mixing a drink for herself. Rachel normally would find that opening someone else's refrigerator and liquor cabinet without their explicit permission was rude and weird, but hey, Puck had fathered her child. That was like, lifelong intimacy. And she'd seen the way Finn had been drinking and _enjoying_ the flirtations of that other girl. She didn't blame the Quinn.

She took a long look at the blond in front of her before deciding that she could use some support.

"What are you preparing? Can you pour me some?" Rachel asked casually, pretending that the situation was completely normal. Quinn looked up, not saying anything and apparently not caring that Rachel had caught her in transgression. She just picked up another glass, poured a large amount of the drink and pushed it towards Rachel silently.

Rachel was half apprehensive when she picked the glass up. It had the same color as whisky, so that could only mean it wasn't made of anything that Rachel could actually enjoy. She shrugged before sipping it, guessing that this could count as her daily good deed.

It burned her throat, her esophagus, it even burned her _freaking tongue_.

She almost spat it out. _This is the worst thing I've ever drank._ It had a taste that Rachel assumed could only be gasoline and she had no idea what Quinn had mixed to achieve _that._ She watched in horror as Quinn donned half her glass in one gulp. She said nothing, timidly pretending to take another sip. When Quinn turned away to pour herself some more, she threw a good portion on the sink. She quickly recomposed, pretending to be drinking from her glass.

Quinn turned back and Rachel could see that she was already drunk. She put both arms on the kitchen aisle, supporting herself as she looked down. Rachel just sat there.

"I'm pathetic" she pronounced, slurring a little. She was laying her upper half on the aisle and had her head down as though she was going to take a nap. Rachel sighed, looking thoughtful. "No, you're not. You're not the first to get drunk over something bad". Rachel remembered her own experience quite well. She could safely say that it goes away and you eventually start laughing about it.

Eventually.

"No, not that" she looked at Rachel, eyes bloodshot. "Well, that too, I guess". She spoke slowly and looked down. Then she looked at Rachel again. "I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to do with my acting degree. I'm no good. Who am I kidding?"

Rachel felt a pang. She certainly could relate to that feeling of unworthiness. Her expression showed concern. Quinn put her head down again. "My whole life is just a mess."

Rachel knew that it was just desperation and alcohol talking, spurned by the current circumstances. But she felt compelled to make Quinn feel better nonetheless.

"Quinn, come on. You're gonna go to Yale and it will be awesome. "

Quinn looked up, shaking her head. "I'm only going to Yale because I thought that if I went somewhere else, where nobody knew me, I could erase everything. Start fresh. Be a different person. But I won't be able to not screw it up, I just know it."

Rachel bit her lip. She had tried to be someone else in NY and it hadn't worked for her either. But she didn't want to discourage Quinn. Going away and being on her own had done her wonders, she'd realized.

And Puck had helped her see it. She smiled a bit to herself.

She threw the rest of her drink on the sink, not caring anymore that Quinn saw her doing it. Then she took a deep breath and looked frankly at her former classmate.

"Look Quinn. Deep down there, you know you are awesome. You can't run from who you are, but you know what? I bet you'll find out that you won't be afraid of your own company anymore." It was the truth, she knew it.

Rachel looked down after her inspired speech only to find that Quinn had been half asleep on the counter. She was rapidly going from drunk to "about to pass out". Rachel gave an impatient _humph_ and stood up to get a glass of water for Quinn.

When she turned around to offer the glass of water, she found Quinn gone and nowhere in sight. Rachel went after her, reentering the house's party area, still holding the glass of water.

She passed a few rooms without any success until she finally saw a familiar face, except it wasn't the one she was searching for and she really wished she hadn't seen it.

What she saw shocked her so much that she ended up dropping the glass, spreading shards and water all around her feet. On a corner, against the wall, was Finn, making out wildly with the brunette from earlier, without his shirt on, not really caring if anyone saw it.

She simply froze on the spot, not wanting to look but at the same time not being able to take her eyes off of the scene. _This is extremely inconsiderate to Quinn, how can he dip so low?_

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw movement and quickly realized two things. One: Quinn, on the opposite corner, fleeing from the room after quite obviously witnessing the grotesque scene, and two: Puck, on the other side, coming down the stairs from his bedroom area and staring, surprised, at the obvious disgust on Rachel's face, at the shards of glass around her feet and then, finally, at the heavy make out session going on in his couch. Comprehension visibly dawned on his face and he looked hurt, turning around and going back up the stairs again.

Rachel's eyes went wide. His expression cut her deeply. He looked…_betrayed._ He had gotten it all wrong, but she couldn't go after two people at the same time.

So she ran outside, after Quinn.


	10. Be Here To Love Me

**Thank you my amazing reviewers **** I dedicate this chapter to you. **

It had been a good three hours before she could finally exit Quinn's house. Back at the party, she'd found Quinn sitting on a corner of Puck's yard, looking utterly disheveled, tear streaks down her face. It took her a while to convince Quinn to leave her car there and get a ride home from Rachel, but she eventually gave in. Carrying Quinn all the way inside her car wasn't an easy feat, since the girl was taller than her. Good thing they were both in good shape.

Carrying her silently up the stairs at Quinn's house was no easy feat either, since the girl kept giggling and then shushing Rachel, telling her she would wake her mom. Rachel rolled her eyes several times, until she herself felt the urge to laugh from the patheticness of the situation. _She might not even remember this in the morning._

They finally made it to her room, and Quinn promptly lay down on her bed. Then she sat up and looked around. "How did we get here?" She asked, confused. Rachel answered that she'd brought them here, and asked her how she was feeling.

"Fine" she lay down again. A few minutes passed, she sat up and again asked "How did I get here?" Rachel rolled her eyes. She had no patience for drunken stupidity, so she excused herself to get some water down in the kitchen.

She brought a glass up to Quinn, who was throwing up on her bathroom when Rachel arrived. _Good, this way she won't feel bad in the morning. _Rachel tied all of that mass of golden hair in a ponytail, and patiently waited at a safe distance. When it seemed over, she handed the glass to Quinn, who gratefully took it. Her eyes seemed a lot more focused already.

They stayed silently like that for several moments, Rachel patiently waiting and Quinn recovering a bit. She eventually stood up from the floor, opened the water tap and cleaned up. Rachel knew she would still be hung over in the morning, but at least the worst of the drunkenness was gone. She helped Quinn into the bed.

Quinn assured her it was safe for her to go, even after Rachel insisting that she could stay if Quinn needed it. Quinn replied saying that she was fine, just needed the rest and to think about stuff. Rachel turned around to leave.

"Rach"

Rachel turned back towards her.

She smiled weakly. "Thank you. I don't think there are many people who would've done this for me."

Rachel smiled back. "Of course there are, I was just the one here." Rachel wasn't sure if this was the truth, but whatever. She didn't mind being the one to help.

She descended the stairs, knowing she still had one more problem to solve that night: Noah.

She arrived at Puck's a little after two. She knew it was quite late but she doubted he was asleep. As a matter of fact, she was willing to bet that he still had a few leftover guests.

She just hoped that none of them were women.

She hadn't really considered that possibility until she parked her car outside his house and ran towards his door.

It was too late though; she had to fix this and there was no way she could back down. There was only really one thing left to do: brace herself for the possibility of rejection.

She took a deep breath before grasping the handle and opening his front door.

Her eyes went wide when she saw the inside of his house once the door was open. It looked like a hurricane had gone through. His living room was a mess: the couch was turned over; glasses, dishes and empty bottles were spread all over the place.

_I wouldn't want to be him in the morning._

She carefully made her way through, avoiding beer pools and glass shards. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs, not wanting to make any noise; wouldn't be good to let her presence be known in case she needed a quick escape (e.g. in case there was a woman upstairs).

She tiptoed her way upstairs, not really knowing each way to go down the corridor once she arrived at the top floor. She stopped and looked both ways, frustrated. She rubbed her neck.

It occurred to her that the concept of this big house being Puck's was _so weird._ To think that he had a house, had those business contacts she'd seen earlier, had a whole _grown up_ life that she knew nothing about. It made him look more like a stranger than the boy she used to go to school with.

That thought gave her pause. Should she even be here? Did she really know him at all? Wasn't she just pretending that they were still in high school and that everything was just really smaller, less serious and less scary?

Was she pretending that it would ache any less?

She slowly turned around, facing the stairs again, ready to bolt at any moment. She would make a fool of herself, she thought. She was assuming things, things that he had never really said directly to her.

_This house is real; the rest is just an illusion._

Just as she was about to leave, the sound of a familiar voice accompanied by a familiar acoustic guitar reached her ears.

It was Noah, _her _Noah, playing George Harrison's Something, one of her favorite songs.

_ I'm not the same girl either._

She turned back and walked along the corridor, following the sound. She soon arrived at what she figured was his room. He had his back turned to the door, _thankfully alone, _his guitar in his hands, singing softly to himself.

Her heart thumped in her ears. He played beautifully what she knew to be a really hard song. _He has so much soul, _she mused.

She didn't know how to announce herself. She didn't want to interrupt, for one, and she also didn't want to freak him out. After all, she had broken in his house in the middle of the night. _That sounds way much cooler than it actually is._

She barely had time to think about it, because he soon finished the song and turned around, seemingly unsurprised to find her there. She was embarrassed by his gaze upon her and timidly clapped her hands, praising him for his solo.

He turned away from her without saying anything and her eyes fell down. "Did you know I was here?" she asked in a small voice. She stood by the door frame, arms crossed, not really knowing what to do.

He didn't really answer for a few seconds as he played around with the chords. "I know your stepping." He told her without looking at her, his voice deep, controlled. He mindlessly strummed his fingers along the guitar. She felt something warm within her. That felt oddly intimate, that he would know what she sound like when she moved around.

She felt more courageous then, so she left the doorframe to sit on the bed beside him. She knotted her hands in her lap and stared at them quietly as he continued his thrumming. _ Grow up, Rachel_. She took a deep breath.

"I know what you are thinking" she told him bravely. He stopped playing and turned to look her in the eyes. "Do you?" He asked her levelly, his expression unreadable. He had these cool, collected pose that got her jittery. Sometimes he looked like a one hundred year old men who could see right through her.

"Yes" she answered boldly, putting her hands on top of his. They stood like that for a moment, staring at each other's eyes. An electric current seemed to go through the place where their skins touched. She slowly removed the guitar from under his hands, cautiously put it away taking out the last barrier there was between them.

"Quinn was…extremely upset. She was quite drunk and I thought I should better take her home. She is not – she grasped his hands – an easy drunk nor is she as light as she looks when you're carrying her upstairs." She chuckled lightly, more to herself as she stared down at his hands instead of him.

She looked tentatively up at him. He seemed to grasp the meaning of what she was trying to say in half words, because his eyes became gentler and hopeful, but then darker and deeper. It drew her in, eyes locked in his as it slowly became a blazing exchange.

She was kissing him before realizing she had come any closer. He didn't protest and was quickly responding with a hunger to match hers. He moved his hands to caress her long hair, as she moved hers to squeeze his shoulders. She had a desperate _need_ to get to his skin, _under it, _to come even closer as if she could embrace him with her own skin.

She was soon pressing him down on his own bed, kissing him intently, feeling a weird joy that combined freedom, lust and excitement. He responded to her kisses enthusiastically, running his hands all over her back, hanging around on the back of her knees, just below her skirt.

Once she moved from his mouth to kiss his neck, he seemed to calm down and instead put his hands on her middle back. She eventually noticed it and stopped what she was doing, looking up at him expectantly.

He looked tenderly at her, caressed her hair and rolled her beside him. He was laying on his right side and she was laying on her left, right in front of him, neither speaking, Rachel just looking at him patiently. They were both a little out of breath.

"Do you remember what I told you in NY?" He asked her affectionately. Rachel sighed, upset, looking away from him. She had no wish to revisit that.

"Do you remember what _I_ said?" She looked back at him, her throat closing. That he'd brought it up angered and hurt her a little bit.

He looked at her, eyes sad. "I travel around all the time. I don't stay anywhere for long".

"I don't care!" She exclaimed, rising up to sit on the bed again. "Don't I have a say in this? Do not take my choice away. That is not fair." She took his head in both of her hands, delicately. "I want you" She felt comfortable saying it and could feel the truthiness of it. For the first time in a long, long while she hadn't been embarrassed by her feelings and he wouldn't take it away from her.

She could see his eyes blazing, looking at hers, and it softened her. She caressed his chin and he kissed her hand. "I do listen to what you say" he murmured against her hand, holding it with his own. He turned her hand to kiss her wrist. She shivered. "Do you listen to what I say?"

She moved closer, sitting on his lap and circling his neck with her arms, she couldn't help it. It was hard to resist him even during an argument, and he appeared to feel the same. She kissed his neck, softly. "I always do" she whispered against his skin. He closed his eyes, savoring the feeling, and turned to kiss the top of her head.

"I told you how I felt" he whispered in her ear. She moved away to take a better look at him. He was softly staring at her, she realized, waiting for her reaction. "You vaguely said you liked me" she smiled gently, moving her hand from his head down to his neck, exploring, caressing. He gently grabbed her hand, stopping its progress. She looked him in the eyes.

"I love you" he told her, holding her hand.

She didn't hesitate and kissed him full on the lips. He immediately responded and the feverish kiss resulted on them both lying back on the bed, barely pausing to breath.


	11. My Universe Will Never Be The Same

**Ok, I rewrote this chapter a lot...and also had to work :) sorry guys, hope it is worth the wait!**

Rachel sat by the window of her Lima bedroom, reminiscing on the aftermath of her night with Puck. As she looked outside, she remembered waking up by his side and feeling…happy. Strangely, more than happy. She had then felt in control of her life and realized, as she stared at the trees outside, that the feeling persisted.

Noah was an amazing guy, a wonderful person. And, she couldn't deny, she'd had a good time. He was also one of her best friends…she could almost say they were _synchronized to each other_.

Yes, as weird as that could sound, that was it. Even though they had different tastes for food, colors, music, movies, they felt the same about things that mattered: family, religion, political views…

But was that love? He'd told her he loved her right before they had sex. He wasn't exactly expecting an answer, but she felt like she had to say something. She knew enough by now to realize that passion wasn't the same as love. Friendship wasn't the same as love, either.

She absently stared out of her window, hoping that an epiphany would come. Nothing happened.

She remembered reaching out to caress his cheek and just looking at his sleeping form, hoping that she would get an answer. The sun was coming in from the window and a ray was lighting up a trail from his cheek down to his mouth that she had followed with her fingers. He then stirred a little from her touch, but his eyes remained closed.

She couldn't deny that she felt perfectly comfortable around him.

Present time Rachel sighed, lowering her head on her hand. She replayed those scenes over and over again in her head, but they did not give her the answer she sought. She figured she didn't really love him after all; if she loved him, she would certainly now.

Wouldn't she?

She tried imagining her life without him. He wasn't exactly _in_ her life, though. He was more of a virtual – albeit constant – presence. He'd come and go as he pleased, said her bitter thoughts. She corrected herself: _as his schedule pleased._

But then again they'd been like that her whole life. They would become close, only to grow apart again. And she couldn't blame him half the time; it'd been her own doing, chasing after Finn, chasing after herself. Maybe it was time to let go again.

He'd always been cool with it. They always remained friends. But there always remained a connection. A…_tether. _

After they woke up that day, he promised to make her pancakes, so they descended the stairs, both hungry and in a good mood. He joked with her as they arrived at the kitchen. He smirked at her, all sexy in boxers and a pajama shirt, and opened the cupboard to reveal vegan ingredients for pancake.

Her eyes went wide. "You did not!" She playfully slapped him and said "You were so sure I would have breakfast here one day, weren't you?" He looked soberly back at her and turned his back to grab the ingredients "I thought you would like having stuff here if you visited". She felt warm inside. It was tacky, but it worked for her. She got up to help him out with the pancakes.

It had been a pretty pleasant morning. She'd left after breakfast and they hadn't talked since, save for the occasional texting. It was pretty obvious that she didn't know how to answer and he was giving her some space. She knew, though, that he couldn't wait forever and that she owed him the courtesy of an answer.

She just had no idea what that answer would be and her time was running thin. He would be leaving to LA in two hours and she would be leaving to NY on the next day. He said he'd head to NY sometime before Thanksgiving, but that could take weeks. And they would be right back to where they started.

Rachel put on her running shoes, deciding that it was now or never. She had to give him an answer, no matter what that answer was.

She yelled to her dads that she'd be right back as she shut the kitchen's door. She broke into a run, welcoming the strain on her tights and the wind on her face. Maybe if she thought nothing at all she would finally find the answer.

Maybe…

Maybe…

_Oh, crap. _Did she even _want _a boyfriend? Was it worth the heartbreak? Now that everything was falling in place, she didn't want to rock the boat. But, then again, he had been the one to break her stupor and shake her out of her loneliness so she could get it right.

Wouldn't be a relationship, either. They would be apart most of the year, with him having meetings with hot female executives during the day and playing his guitar, hot female fans all over him, at night…

_Oh God, you so like him. You're so jealous. _Rachel mused to herself as she briefly closed her eyes in dread. _Breath Rachel. Breath._

She arrived at his doorstep but didn't ring the doorbell. She tried catching her breath at the porch, as she decided that she would tell him no. No, she did not want to feel insecure about him. No, she did not want all the jealousy. No, she did not want the turmoil of a relationship, specially a long distance one. Let's stay friends. _No, she did not lo-_

Noah, the person who had consumed her thoughts for the last few months, suddenly opened the door, startling her. She said nothing, just stared at his bright eyes, as he looked tenderly back at her. He was giving her the exact same look as when he said he loved her. He didn't say anything though and she continued staring at him, at a loss for words, all trace of thought completely vanishing from her mind. Then, she suddenly heard herself saying what she had planned all along not to say.

"I love you" and she looked at him, feeling the truth of her words. "I love you" she repeated, testing the words on her tongue, and smiling as she realized that they were still true. He smiled brightly back at her.

**_The End_**


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